


Normal

by OrbManson7



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Claustrophobia, Pain, Panic Attacks, Season 1 Finale Spoilers, referenced injury, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrbManson7/pseuds/OrbManson7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(After the events of "Storm the Castle") Marco is going to have a bit of trouble sleeping tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Panic attacks, claustrophobia, references of near-death experiences, depictions of pain and injury, sorta-but-not-really spoilers from "Storm the Castle" Season 1 Finale, references to Marco's monster arm
> 
> \--
> 
> I might expand upon this idea and flesh this out into an actual plot-based fic. Let me know if you like it, and I'll continue!

Everything seemed like it had gone back to normal that night.  
Marco and Star walked back into the Diaz household, high-fived, said goodnight, and then walked off toward their respective bedrooms.   
Star had gone to sleep that night with an exhausted smile on her face that slowly but surely faded completely. Marco, on the other hand, dropped his grin the moment he’d shut his bedroom door behind him.  
It was as if everything that happened took too long to finish processing in his brain, and it just kept hitting him and hitting him, harder and heavier, over and over, as the night went on. He sighed loudly into his empty room, trudging over to his bed and just flopping himself down onto it.   
He didn’t ever bother removing his shoes, he just tugged at the corner of his blanket, pulled it up to his chest, and rolled over on his side.  
The second his eyes shut, the cold pressure of the glass he’d been trapped in just hours earlier pushed on him once more. Smashing him into the ground, squeezing the air from his lungs.  
His eyes shot back open, the pressure evaporated instantly and he stared forward at the familiar window along the wall, the moonlight shining in through the glass.  
Glass.  
Marco looked away from the window, staring interestingly at his own elbow, his arm tucked neatly under his head. It wasn’t actually interesting, but at least it wasn’t made of glass. He wiggled his fingers for a moment, as if to check to see if he still had control of his arm. There had been a time he hadn’t, after all.  
He felt pressure squeezing, curling up his arm. Glass poking in around his elbow, his blood rushing there, pulsing loudly.  
Marco rolled onto his back, giving his arm the much-needed air it clearly desired. He stared blankly up at the ceiling. There was an insignificant glare of light shining near where the ceiling and the wall behind his bed met. The moonlight reflecting something outside, perhaps.  
He felt his eyes getting heavy, and let them slowly fall closed. His arm’s pulsing regulated, and he let the dull rhythm lull him to sleep.  
His breathing was steady, the air wisping through his mouth smooth and silent. He stared at the black nothing of the inside of his eyelids for a while, his mind intent on staying blank and empty, much like the room he was in.  
His bedroom wasn’t technically empty, since he was also in it, but it felt that way. Everything that normally made noise--the buzzing lamp, the whirring computer, the curtains blowing in the wind from an open window--were all completely silent. They laid there, still, like Marco did in his bed, trying to fall asleep after his exhausting day. The room felt as exhausted as he did, heaving a loud sigh as Marco took a deeper breath. The walls shuddered in their exhale, and then heaved another sigh, longer and deeper this time. The ceiling joined them, letting itself fall as it breathed deeper and deeper, too.  
Marco’s throat tightened at each wisp of breath, as if the air in the room was swelling it, keeping him from collecting more. The walls continue to heave, and Marco kept his eyes shut, refusing the watch as the room collapsed in around him. The pressure above him returned, burning his hands, burning his shoulders. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the air in the room was swelled his throat shut. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. What could he do?  
What could he do?  
Marco grimaced. He had to fight back. He reached up, pushing back at the ceiling, pushing with everything he had. But, obviously, it wasn’t enough. When is it ever enough? His heart felt like it was being crushed now, his arms doing nothing to hold back the pressure of the glass over him. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. His head was being crushed, he couldn’t keep this up.  
He quit.  
Marco lurched straight up on his bed, clutching at his chest, taking a deep, long breath in the process. His eyes were wide in fear, and his whole body shook as he exhaled, as if afraid that there wouldn’t be another breath to inhale afterward.  
He was sweaty, his mouth hanging open and hot air escaping into the empty room around him. He hesitantly glanced up at the ceiling. It was the usual height it always appeared to be, not pushing down on him, not trying to crush him and kill him. It was quiet. It was normal.  
Marco blinked a few times, and then lazily laid back onto the bed again.  
None of this was normal, he realized. He was very used to Star’s antics by now, and the consequences that came with those antics, as well. Sure, he’d gotten a bruise here, a cut there, maybe even a broken arm on occasion…  
Sharp teeth erupted from his memory and broke his train of thought. He paused, glancing down, and let his arm fall to his side again.   
No, this wasn’t normal. But he could make it work.   
He just had to keep his head on straight, not let his mind run wild like it sometimes would when he thought about safety protocols and what lead to the reason for them needing to be enforced. He breathed in slowly, and then breathed out just as slow. He could do this.  
His eyes flicked back up to the ceiling, something in the back of his mind wondering if that reflected light was closer to him now. Were the walls closer? Were they always that close?  
His heartbeat raced as he watched the stillness of the room remain perfectly still. Nothing was happening, but he felt like everything was happening all at once.  
He had to snap out it.  
Get some rest, he ordered his brain. He needed it, that much was obvious. Sleep would keep these bizarre fears away...wouldn’t it?


End file.
